


The Prodigy

by SLRobinson



Series: Heroes Rise [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 19:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLRobinson/pseuds/SLRobinson
Summary: Samuel Tricamo has long wished to become a powered superhero, fighting for justice. However, this became unlikely when his parents (the Superhero couple, 'The Sound and The Fury') were sent to jail for murdering Miss Artillery (a villain with the power to create destructive weapons at will). Since then, he has longed for the day he could take to the skies and fight crime like his parents before him. Yet when that day finally comes... Is he truly ready?DISCLAIMER: I do not own this story, as such. The main storyline was written by Zachary Sergi and published as a "choose-your-own-adventure" style story on the website: www.choiceofgames.com under the title 'Heroes Rise: The Prodigy'. After playing through the game I decided to write down my characters experiences, and so I present 'The Prodigy', The story of Samuel Tricamo's struggle to become a true powered hero and bring justice to the corrupt Mayor Victon, who sentenced his parents to life in jail. All characters, besides Sam Tricamo, belong to Zachary SergiDISCLAIMER II: While this is by no means smut, there will be references to sexual activity. Also, there will be a great deal of violence and strong language, hence the Mature rating.





	1. Chapter 1

**Hi, I'm Samuel** **Tricamo** **and I just want to let you know, this is not just any story that you're about to read, this is my life story. Throughout, anything you see in square brackets "[...]", is a note from me to you, usually giving context, which could end up being quite lengthy, I run on when explaining things sometimes. I hope you find my life interesting, please leave a comment telling me how you find it and if you like it, well, spread the word. :) Thanks.**   
  


A helicopter blade sliced through the air inches away from my face, filling my nostrils with the smell of burning metal. I didn't have much time to process this, however, as a ball of flame unfurled in my direction.

I leaped onto a neighboring rooftop and tumbled around a smoldering chunk of the engine.  _Today was supposed to be my day off,_  I had thought, but when I saw a news chopper careening out of control above the city, I couldn't just stand by like a common pedestrian. As I pulled clear of the wreckage, I saw that the ejected pilot had floated high above the rooftops from a parachute—one that was crawling with licks of flame. I knew at the time it wouldn't be long before the parachute burnt through and the pilot dropped hundreds of stories to his death...

So, with lightning-quick efficiency, I jumped onto the ledge and used my finger to trigger the zip-cord which shot from the top of my wrist, with a magnetized tip set to latch on to the pilot's metal seat...

The shot landed perfectly.

Then, with great care, I began to retract the zip-cord, pulling the pilot safely onto the roof beside me.

As my vision faded to black, I removed the virtual reality helmet and ended that 3D gaming experience. I blinked several times to adjust to the sunlight in the room, which poured in through sleek glass windows. Then I looked across the conference table at a buttoned-up executive eyeing me. "So, what do you think? They really ramped up the graphics, right?" she blurted out. "Oh, don't spoil the surprise—take the game home for your full report. You can collect your advance from the front desk on your way out. Thanks, as always, um..."

Now, I don't mean to boast but I was Virtuous Reality's best game tester, yet this executive still didn't know my name. So of course, I sighed inwardly before forcing a smile and saying, "Sam."

"Right, Sam. Always a pleasure." The executive then strode out the door— _no doubt on her way to a more important meeting_. So, I walked toward the front desk alone and thought about how I'd much rather be out there saving real helicopter crashes than testing fake ones.  _But hey, at least it pays the bills._

_Though not very well_ , I concluded my thought as I accepted a deposit for $100 at the front desk. Adding this amount to my bank account brought me to a grand total of $2100.  _Not exactly rolling in dough, am I?_  I thought.

I pushed all thoughts of money from my mind as I exited into the bustling streets of Millennia City. [Nestled on America's west coast between Los Angeles and San Francisco; Millennia City was, and still is, the shining beacon of twenty-second-century progress—not to mention the city that I've called home for my entire life.]

I stepped into the crowd next to a woman whose skin was covered in fish-like scales, each one reflecting a different color. I suppose, in hindsight, this might surprise some people, but it didn't surprise me. NYC has finance, LA has entertainment, and DC has politics, but MC has heroes—it was the Powered capitol of the country.

A fact I was reminded of as a sonic boom pulsed through the air. I looked up to see twin blondes rocketing across the sky, a cloud of smoke left in their wake. I sighed, knowing that I belonged up there with the Legends instead of down on Earth with the masses.

Those days, one out of every three people was born with Powered abilities and pretty much every one of them wanted to be a hero. Especially after Powered Heroes eclipsed movie stars and music icons to set the standard for A-list celebrity.

I would've loved to fly home right then, considering that I had the Power to fly. [However, after one too many gruesome mid-air collisions, the Department for the Regulation of Powered Resources (DRPR) designated the skies for government-licensed travelers only.]

So, flying was definitely off-limits for me, especially because breaking the law then would only hinder my heroic rise later, so I knew that I'd just have to be patient—extremely patient, considering that if I was a big-time hero, I could be flying home in a fraction of the time.

As I walked down to the Metro-Way platform, I paid for the ticket by rolling up my sleeve and accessing my MeChip, [a bit of personal tablet technology embedded in the underside of a person's wrist. Not too long prior people used paper slips to pay for things and little plastic devices for phones, but that was before all communication, identification, entertainment, and banking functions became standard in MeChips].

[Each MeChip comes fully customizable, with robotic personality programming that adapts to the person's habits and desires. There are three standard templates available for the robotic personality, and I decided to go with the Polite Butler, which I promptly named Jeeves.]

"Ticket paid for, sir," MeChip Jeeves said inside my head, with a slight British accent.

[All MeChip functions are connected directly to a person's senses, so Jeeves floats in front of my eyes thanks to holographic imaging wired to my retinas. Only I am able to see MeChip Jeeves, who appears as a slender gentleman wearing a full tuxedo.]

"Two dollars deducted from your account. Please enjoy your travels," Jeeves said before fading away.

Waiting on the platform, I spotted an old-fashioned newsstand and decided to reward my flying-restraint with a gossip MeZine. Usually, I tried to get my hero news from more credible sources, but I secretly loved the trashy magazines. [Not so secretly anymore though]

So, I skimmed the screen that ran across the newsstand, looking over the digital covers displayed. I then waved my MeChip, aiming to purchase 'Capes and Cowls' for $5 [The premier hero-fashion MeZine, currently featuring a special on recent trends in heroic footwear. Of course, Heela is on the cover, modeling ankle boots that show off her sinewy mega-calves.]

Thirty Minutes Later, I finally emerged from the Metro-Way in my neighborhood: MC's Eastern Fringes, which consisted mostly of public housing projects, pawnshops, and liquor marts. Despite its lack of charm, the Fringes were still home, so I started to relax as I approached my apartment building.

But a loud crunch of glass snapped my senses to attention. Half a block up I spotted a body that has been thrown through the windshield of a car. A teenage boy with writhing snakes coiled around his outstretched arms stood on the sidewalk nearby.

Before I could even blink, the body in the windshield leaped into the sky. It was another teenage boy whose woolly knees bent backward, like a goat's.

_Fuck,_  I cursed to myself— _another animal gang fight_. [The Eastern Fringes were home to a large portion of the animalistic Powered population, widely known to have the most interspecies tension. And there was an especially fierce feud between two local Ani-gangs, The Cloven and The Scales.]

As goat-boy bounded through the air, snake-boy reacted. His arm-snakes surged forward, straightening their impossibly long bodies and clamping on to goat-boy's thighs with their teeth. Snake-boy then whipped his arms back, using the snakes as levers to smash goat-boy into the pavement.

Knowing goat-boy wouldn't be able to survive much more snake-thrashing, I ran toward the scene and jumped into the fray, making sure to hit hard and fast. I was on snake-boy so fast, he didn't even see me coming. [In addition to my flight Powers, I also had the ability to generate and wield surges of energy but I knew they weren't needed here.] Instead, I ran at full speed, jumping to tackle snake-boy. Before he could defend himself, I shoulder-charged snake-boy and knocked him into a nearby wall.

With snake-boy diverted, I turned my attention back to goat-boy. He was already bounding up the street, bleating curses as he fled. Which is just as well—My only goal was to stop the teens from killing each other, since getting involved would technically be an illegal act of vigilantism.

[Before any Powered individual can start a career as a professional hero, he or she must apply for a Powered Hero License. To lessen the number of applicants, the DRPR makes the process rather lengthy and expensive. By this time I had completed all the paperwork and passed the Power competency tests, but I'd been saving up for a while to pay the hefty application fee.]

So, with goat-boy gone and snake-boy neutralized, it was time to leave before I got into any unnecessary trouble.

"They were at it for almost five minutes and no one did a thing." I turned around to find a mother and her young daughter standing on the sidewalk, both looking relieved. The mother pressed a tissue to the little girl's forehead, against a small cut.

"They were blocking the door to our building," the mother said. "We tried to run inside but got hit with some debris. These Ani-gang fights have been getting so much worse lately...Anyway, who do I have to thank for stopping them?"

"I'm just doing my part to keep the neighborhood safe," I said, shaking her hand.

"Well, thank you," the mother said.

"Are you a real live Powered Hero?" the little girl whispered, gazing up at me.

"Oh, yes he is," the mother answered.

"Just get home safely," I said as I continued toward home, not wanting to admit that I wasn't a real hero— _At least not yet._

When I finally walked into my apartment, I was hit with the familiar fragrance of flowers. That's thanks to grandma, who's also Powered. Her special ability enabled her to communicate with plants, so as far back as I could remember, Grandma filled our home with every kind of flower and foliage imaginable. The apartment always felt like a lush greenhouse, and I couldn't imagine it any other way.

I dropped my bag near the door and approached favorite flower: Golda, a golden rose from a species with metallic foliage that Grandma has spent years breeding.

I leaned in to get a whiff of the rose, which always smelt faintly of caramel—another one of Grandma's unique touches. "I'm afraid Golda has been especially cross with me today," Grandma said, entering the living room. "I had to de-thorn her this morning and now she feels particularly vulnerable. You know how roses get about their thorns, such a sore point."

"Well, tell Golda I think she's still a stunner, thorns or no thorns," I said, approaching Grandma. Now, I knew Grandma better than anyone, so I knew that she mostly cared about tending her plants, so she wore overalls with gardening tools in the pockets and kept her hair tied back at all times. I kissed her hello, then stepped back and pointed to the new video game I'd brought home.

"Another whopping Virtuous Reality deposit to add to the pot."

"Every little bit helps, you know that," Grandma said. "Now if only I could teach one of these little darlings to start growing money for leaves..."

"If anyone can do it, it's you, Gran," I said, walking toward the kitchen. "What are we having for dinner? I'm starving."

But I stopped short as I saw the feast laid out on the kitchen table. It appeared Grandma had cooked my favourite meal! "Happy Birthday," she said with a grin, hugging my side.

One Hour Later, I finally pushed my plate away, my stomach uncomfortably full. [I loved Grandma's cooking, but it's usually pretty heavy: all meat and bread and pasta, since vegetables tended to scream at Grandma whenever she tried to eat them.]

"Well then, now that you've eaten a proper meal, I can finally give you your present!" Grandma said, turning to a shelf above the table where several potted plants sat. Their leafy vines hung down across the wall and create a lush, green curtain. "Guadalupe, would you please?"

At Grandma's request, the nearest vine swung toward me, an envelope nestled between its lowest leaves.

"Go ahead, take it," Grandma practically squealed. "I can't wait any longer!"

Knowing it'd be useless to object, I opened the envelope—which was made of silk fabric, never paper—and pulled out a card made entirely out of dried rose petals. Grandma never let anything go to waste, especially not the remains of her best friends.

And while this rose-card was especially lovely, I was really stunned by what was inside...

A brand new DRPR-issued Powered Hero License. For me.

I read the license, double-checking that the information listed really belonged to me.

**DEPARTMENT FOR THE REGULATION OF POWERED RESOURCES: HERO LICENSE**

**Name:** Sam Sterling

**Gender:**  Male

**Marital Status:**  Single

**Orientation:**  Gay

**Codename:**  Conduit

[Since the twenty-first-century political disputes regarding sexual orientation and marriage, the government required all citizens to declare their orientation along with their marital status. I did think that it was a bit of an invasion of privacy, but it was a required field on the application.]

I stared down in disbelief at the license—Grandma had just given me the best birthday present. Ever.

"How...?" I started to ask, not sure where to begin.

"Someone just needed to pay the outstanding bill on your application," Grandma said, beaming.

"But Gran, this is too much. We can't possibly afford—"

"Hush," Grandma said, crossing her arms. "I had to spend all that extra potpourri money on something useful, didn't I?"

Grandma smiled at me, then looked at the tree in the corner of the kitchen. She nodded and right on cue the tree began to shake, letting loose a shower of sparkling seeds. Grandma only had that old tree shake shimmers on the most special of occasions...

"Thank you, Gran" is all I could manage.

"It's only what you deserve, Sam," Grandma said, leaning back in her chair and stroking the shimmer tree. "Besides, it's what your parents would have wanted."


	2. Chapter 2

Once upon a time my parents, The Sound and The Fury, were Millennia City's most famous Powered couple. When they met in high school, they discovered that my mother's ability to generate vocal sonic waves perfectly complemented my father's ability to harness sound energy. Almost immediately after they arrived on MC's hero scene, the public became enamoured with their budding romance and their harmonious Power set.

As they rose rapidly to the hero A-list, no villain was too dangerous for them to battle and no party was too exclusive for them to attend. This meant that I got to spend my childhood immersed in MC's finest hero high life, knowing that someday I'd fight alongside his parents as a famous hero.

Until my thirteenth birthday.

It was going to be the best night of my life, the first time my Powers might begin to manifest. My parents were at a press conference speaking about one of their recent successes—shutting down an assassin training academy masquerading as a public high school. They were supposed to say a few words about the mission and then come straight home to celebrate my big night.

However, just as they were preparing to leave, a young villainess crashed the event. She was Miss Artillery, one of the assassin academy's teachers, and she entered ranting about how The Sound and The Fury had ruined her life. She quickly went on the offensive with her Power to generate weaponry and my parents moved to apprehend her. But for some strange reason—perhaps because they were in such a rush to get home to me—they miscalculated their joint attack.

In what became the biggest news story of the year, The Sound and The Fury murdered Miss Artillery by snapping her spine.

While The Sound disoriented Miss Artillery with a shot of sonic vertigo, The Fury moved to physically disarm her with his sound-enhanced strength.

I still didn't know whether my mother miscalculated the power of her sonic boost or my father misjudged the pump-up he had received.

Either way, when The Fury grabbed Miss Artillery, her spine crumbled like rubble underneath his fingers.

This certainly wasn't the first time a hero had accidentally used fatal force against a villain. Traditionally, this mistake would require a fair amount of community service and a hefty fine, especially for heroes of my parents' calibre.

However, this accident came on the heels of a recent string of excessive hero-on-villain brutality and their case fell into the hands of Judge Victon, an up-and-comer who was making a play to become MC's mayor. Deciding that a harsh ruling would set the perfect example for his zero-tolerance campaign against heroic brutality, Judge Victon passed the harshest sentence ever given to any Powered Hero.

Citing a "murderous misuse of Powered ability," he sentenced The Sound and The Fury to a life term in The Devoid, a maximum-security facility for Powereds.

Without visitation rights.

The last time I had seen my parents was on the day of that infamous sentencing, right before the police escorted them to The Devoid. I never forgot the image of my mother and father in orange jumpsuits, handcuffed and shamed, their spirits broken.

Judge Victon wouldn't even let them hug me goodbye.

My mum couldn't stop crying as the police escorted her away. But as my dad followed, he turned to me and said the words I came to live by:

"Don't let this stop you, Sam. Become a hero—for us."

After the trial, my parents' considerable fortune was transferred to Miss Artillery's estate and I was assigned to live with my only living relative—my grandma. However, moving in with her wasn't so simple....

Over the course of their careers, my parents had amassed a deadly collection of enemies—each of whom would've been thrilled to seek revenge on The Sound and The Fury's now-defenseless family. So, the court enrolled me and my Grandma in the Powered Family Protection Program (PFPP).

Me and Grandma were given brand new identities: The Sterling name was assigned to us, though at least I got to keep my first name. Grandma suddenly found herself forced to live on a pitiful PFPP stipend and had to move me into a small apartment in the Eastern Fringes. She also had to pull me out of my fancy, Powered-only private school and enroll me in the local public school.

In the course of a few short months, my life became entirely unrecognizable to me...and it had never been the same since. That's why, every day, I reminded himself of who I really was.

Samuel Tricamo.

So, Sam Tricamo was no more, giving way instead to Sam Sterling. And I found that the Sterling version of myself was vastly different, forced to grow up way faster than anyone ever should....

Back in the kitchen, I looked across the table at Grandma. She's the only other person in the world who understood how I felt—after all, she was forced to abandon the life she had built for over seventy years to enter the PFPP with me. Despite this, Grandma had still managed to start over and find a way to be happy once again.

And without her, I'd have had no shot at becoming a hero.

"Thank you, Gran," I repeated, fighting against the lump forming in my throat.

"Oh, hush up," Grandma said, wiping at her cheeks. "What are you waiting for? You've got a career to start!"

I ran into my room [where I made sure not to keep any plants, since I didn't need Grandma's best spies hanging around]. It was decorated plainly but what truly made the room mine was the wall filled with framed posters of my favorite Powered Heroes.

Featured centrally were my parents in their classic Sound and Fury costumes, right next to my favorite Powered Hero, Rebellion. He had been my idol ever since I was a little kid.

I had plenty of other posters on my "hero-worship wall", but I most wanted to emulate the career of Static, the Eastern Fringes' current champion at the time. [Named after Static Lane, the Fringes' most infamous crime-clogged street, Static was one of the few heroes to stand up to the injustices of life in the Eastern Fringes, since most heroes concentrated on more glamorous and less dangerous work outside of the Fringes.]

However, no one had seen Static in months, a troubling mystery that went unsolved....

Every morning, I would stare at the hero wall and envision what my own poster would look like among these famous heroes. Peeling my eyes away, my attention wandered down to the video game I was supposed to be testing. Now that I had my license, however, I could finally quit the game-testing job, since there were dozens of ways for heroes to earn a living.

Most of these paid jobs are very difficult to obtain, though—I'd heard the horror stories about the endless lines at the DRPR to collect Powered Hero Unemployment.

Still, I didn't think twice about tossing the video game in the trash and reaching for my single most-prized possession: my Conduit costume.

As I suited up, I pulled a mask over my face to protect my identity. Even though no one would ever recognize me as The Sound and The Fury's child now that I'd grown up, I didn't need anyone discovering my Sterling identity and going after Grandma.

I'd been perfecting the right costume for a long time, since it was basically my calling card as a hero. Knowing this, I chose a color scheme that was all tones of black and metal grey, for intimidation.

Every time I put on my costume, I couldn't wait to use my Powers.

So, I snapped my fingers, generating a small pop of white energy. As the pop of white energy faded, I looked over at myself in the mirror. Sam Sterling didn't look back at me. Conduit did.

Now, knowing that style without substance meant very little, I'd also chosen design features that amplified my Powers.

Truth be told, I'd have been able to afford my hero license way sooner if I hadn't spent so much money on the large, metal bands on my wrists that stored energy for blasting.

As I stood there in my perfect costume and with all of my intentions set, I truly realized that I was actually ready to start my career as a powered hero.

But becoming a legendary hero meant more to me than just fulfilling my own dreams—it was also about redeeming the Tricamo name. I always had one ultimate goal: to become an A-list hero and reveal to Millennia City that I was actually The Sound and The Fury's child.

I knew that achieving this level of success was the only way to restore honor to my parents and redeem my family's legacy in the hero world.

And because it was so important to my end goal, one central question constantly plagued me: In my rise to become a Legend, is it more important to focus on achieving fame or upholding justice?

Yet I always knew that while being known was important, saving lives was even more so. It's vital that I uphold justice first and foremost, I thought, but that doesn't mean I can't smile for the press once a mission is accomplished.

For having the courage to begin my rise as a hero, My Legend had already increased. [A hero's Legend Level is the most important meter for gauging their success as a hero and is affected by the decisions they make and by fluctuations in their public image. Rebellion's Legend was the highest on record—an astounding 100. A hero's Legend Level is tracked on their hero license.]

I flipped over my license and saw that my current Legend was a lowly 1. [Of course, the plastic version of the license is simply a keepsake—the official license is scanned prior and uploaded into the corresponding hero's MeChip.]

"Warmest regards on your license, sir," MeChip Jeeves said, appearing in front of me once again. "Best of luck on launching your career."

"Thanks, Jeeves," I said, smiling, before adding, "can you move my 'Stats' button to my homescreen and..."

"You all look insane, talking to those electronic voices in your heads," Grandma said from the doorway. "That's why I simply refuse to have one of those machines implanted in me. It just doesn't seem right."

"I know how you feel about MeChips, Gran," I said, turning towards her. "And it's annoying because now that they've done away with landlines and cell phones, there's no way of getting in touch with you."

"Which is precisely how I like it," Grandma replied. "But look at you! A born Tricamo hero."

"Well, this born hero had better get out there," I said, shaking off his nerves. "This career isn't going to start itself."

"Wait, before you go..."

Grandma walked toward me, and I saw that she held an envelope in her hands. My stomach dropped.

"It's such a big day," Grandma said, her eyes on the floor. "They'd want to be here so badly...."

My jaw went tight—I knew exactly what Grandma wanted me to do.

[While the Devoid may not have allowed its prisoners to have any visitors, it did permit them to receive letters. So, for years I wrote to my parents, telling them everything about my life. I thought writing those letters would make me feel better, but it only made me feel worse.]

[Because the Devoid didn't allow its prisoners to write any letters back.]

"It's been years since you've written anything...."

Grandma looked up at me and my heart felt like it might break.

"I'm sorry," I said, "but you know how I feel about this, Gran."

I had stopped writing letters to my parents because it was too painful for me. However, not writing letters to them had proven to be just as difficult as actually writing them, so I tried to avoid thinking about it entirely. Grandma knew this, so she didn't press the issue.

"All right, Sam," Grandma says, fighting to keep her face even. "Now listen to me, please be careful out there. Lord knows I won't be able to sleep until you're home."

"I will, Gran. I promise."

"Then off you go," she says, drumming up a smile. "And do try to kick some butt, yes?"

Ready to go, I stepped up on my window's fourteenth-story ledge and looked out over the grandeur of Millennia City. [One of the advantages of living in the Eastern Fringes was the spectacular view of MC's iconic skyline.] I took a deep breath and let the energy of the city run through me.

Standing on this precipice, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of hero I would become. Or if I would be able to survive long enough to achieve the Legend status I so desperately wanted?

The choice is up to me, I thought to myself...right before jumping off the ledge.


	3. Chapter 3

I freefell to the streets below, dropping ten stories before I tensed my muscles and felt my flight Powers kick in.

Most people think flying feels like floating, but it really feels more like swimming--it takes a lot of muscle control and endurance. Luckily, I had been training for years, the way a runner trains for a marathon, so I could fly without much trouble. I pulled upward, feeling gravity work with me instead of against me. I stretched out my arms and climbed up into the sky, the exertion causing a familiar tingling in my abs.

I allowed myself one joy ride up into a bank of clouds before swooping back down toward the cover of the skyline. Having my Hero License makes flying legal, but I still didn't need to start my career with an unregistered flying ticket. So, I cruised low against the buildings toward the heart of the city, toward downtown MC.

My flight from the Eastern Fringes took me across the quaint brownstones of Rein Hill and through Valor Park. Pulling in closer to the high-end metal giants that mark downtown, I landed on a ledge lined with silver statues of Greek gods and goddesses.

One of the hardest parts of being a rookie hero is finding cases--a fact I was reminded of as a pink-clad heroine bothered some teenagers in a nearby alley and three metal sentries thundered through the sky above me. Even if I was lucky enough to stumble upon a decent case, I'd still have to beat out dozens of other aspiring heroes to accomplish the mission and get the credit.

I held my arm up and pressed a button on my metal wristband, popping open a panel to reveal my embedded MeChip. I honestly couldn't imagine what life was like before humans merged with their tablets--Jeeves did so much for me. Hell, most days he even felt like my best friend.

I also had my MeChip to thank for my Powers, according to the current accepted "Powered Origin" theory. [This is the idea that advanced technology paved the way for Powered abilities. The theory suggests that once humans integrated with tablet technology, these tablets began to cover many basic functions (like memory and navigation, for example). Once adjusted to this technological enhancement, the human body was able to evolve and unlock new potential in the form of Powered abilities.]

[These Powers then began to solve pressing global problems, since humans could now do things like generate natural resources and survive in harsher conditions. It seems that the early twenty-first-century technological boom laid the groundwork for the twenty-second-century Powered boom, which once again caused the world to change in startling and exciting ways.]

However, despite the MeChip's ceaseless wonders, at the moment I needed it to search the Internet.

"Jeeves," I said, "open the Hero Classifieds App."

"Right away, sir," MeChip Jeeves echoed in my ear. "Do pick a good one."

As the listings suddenly appeared holographically in front of my face, I began to look for a case that might be suitable. I wanted my first impression to be a good one, so I opened the most prominently featured ad on the home page.

I smiled as I started to read because the case has been sponsored by Rexford Schillers, MC's wealthiest playboy [his family had a major stake in the construction of the Big Sur fusion plant that now powers all of western America]. Turns out Rexford recently held a charity gala at his townhouse for the Powered Orphan Fund. Naturally, it was the must-attend event of the social season, especially since the theme was a Powered masquerade ball.

The party was a smashing success but the next day Rexford woke up to find one of his most prized possessions had been stolen. A party guest managed to get past the considerable security measures and steal a valuable Angelino artefact: The Gravitas, a mysterious rod rumoured to have hidden powers.

What little was known about The Gravitas makes it one of a kind, highly valuable and potentially dangerous. The police were looking into the theft, but Rexford wanted the artefact back so badly that he opened the case up to any Powered Hero...

...with a reward of $150,000.

I nearly choked--that's a lot of money.

With such a large reward at stake, along with inevitable media coverage surrounding the high-profile case, I knew the competition on this one was going to be fierce. I checked the page views on the listing and of course it had already been visited thousands of times.

Still, I promised myself I'd go big or go home. This would certainly qualify as going big.

Though the real reason I wanted to take this case was because I knew that The Gravitas could hurt a lot of people if it fell into the wrong hands.

Unfortunately, the only clue available on this case is a photo of the suspected thief who was an unnamed plus-one guest at the gala. The photo features a man dressed in an expensive suit and wearing a mask themed after Regalia, a very flamboyant hero/rock star. To match his emerald-encrusted mask, the thief's suit is lined with green piping and his fingertips are painted red.

The photo wasn't a whole lot to go on, so I started to wonder what kind of-

But then a thought hit me so hard, I almost fell off of the ledge...

The thief's painted fingertips! This detail may be my one shot at solving this case before anyone else... They were painted red!

This was a very important detail that no one else was bound to know the significance behind... MC's government requires that large-scale building projects designate a portion of their budget to Powered Arts spending. Since Grandma had a particularly green thumb, she sometimes cultivated unique flowers commissioned by emerging property owners.

One of Grandma's biggest sales was a species of crossbred orchids that sing classic operas. It took Grandma years to achieve this horticultural miracle, but there was one flaw in the design. If you touch one of these orchids, it turns your fingertips a different colour, depending on the opera it was trained to sing.

Grandma sold these orchids exclusively to one downtown high-rise building. This means that if the thief's fingertips were painted red from Grandma's orchids, I knew exactly where he lived (since only the penthouse apartment got the red Carmen orchids)!

Other people might've thought this kind of case-break is too good to be true, but I 'knew' better--it was fate. Still, this hunch was a bit of a long shot, so I tried to keep my hopes from rising too much.

I leapt off the roof in the direction of the red-orchid penthouse, excitement coursing through my veins.

The orchid apartment was in central downtown, so my flight over was super short. It's also good this thief could afford a penthouse because it was pretty easy for me to access by flight.

I knew my first priority was finding The Gravitas but catching the thief would be an added bonus.

As the ritzy high-rise came into view, I could already see Grandma's red orchids on the balcony. I relaxed my muscles and slowed my pace as I approached the building, which proved to be difficult with the adrenaline pulsing through my veins.

I dropped down along the wall, trying to keep out of sight-- I knew a building like this was bound to have anti-Powered security measures. Hovering close to the penthouse's window, I peered into the living room to see if anyone was home....

My heart nearly stopped when I came face to face with a man standing inside the apartment, inches away from the glass!

It was definitely the thief from the case photo, right down to the red-stained fingertips. However, he looked far less regal and far more menacing, with overgrown stubble and long, greasy hair. I froze, trying to decide what to do.

Unfortunately, the thief thought faster--he whipped out a handgun and pointed it directly at me. Panicked, I closed my eyes and let out a low-level energy pulse. I heard the glass wall separating me from the thief shatter and when I opened my eyes, the thief's gun lay on the floor, melted beyond repair.

Then, a loud alarm began to sound, and the thief made a run for it. Luckily, with the glass window now broken, I was able to fly right after him.

As I pursued the thief, I expected him to run for the front door--which is why I was puzzled when he headed deeper into the lavishly decorated apartment.

I raced after him into the master bedroom suite and as I got there, my question about the thief's escape plan was suddenly answered.

He didn't head for the front door because he had a teleportation unit in his bedroom.

[Personal teleportation units were supposed to be the next wave of the transportation future but the automotive industry piled millions of dollars into research that revealed the potential cancer risks of atomic fission. So, the government had to ban the sale of the units, putting everyone back into planes, trains, and automobiles.]

This thief didn't seem to care about potential carcinogens, however, since he was already inside the unit and programming the machine's teleportation course.

Without hesitation, I pointed my hands at the console and let an energy burst rip into the controls.

The thief screamed and jumped from the smoking unit. Furious, he looked up at me and snarled, "that was a very big mistake, rookie."

However, I could barely hear him over the alarm blaring in his ears—I knew it was only going to be minutes before the police showed up, so I had to act fast. The thief seemed to be thinking the same thing as he jumped to his feet and pulled something out of his belt.

I let out a small crackle of energy meant to knock the weapon from the thief's hand, but he unsheathed an oversized, red-hot sword that sliced through the crackle with ease. He has some sort of high-tech energy disruptor blade! I thought.

The thief launched at me and took a swipe with the blade, an attack that I narrowly dodged. Just then, I realised that the thief had come near enough that a close-range attack would be able take him down.

Knowing that the thief's blade could block my energy attacks, I shifted to a physical attack. I held out my fists and hovered a few feet off the ground and began to spin quickly

I immediately barraged the thief with a series of spinning punches, knocking the sword out of his hand and sending him reeling across the room.

Just as I had the thief disabled, I heard the wail of police sirens from the streets below.

"Shit!" I cursed, knowing that I was almost out of time. I still wasn't sure if The Gravitas was even there in the apartment...

I considered my options. I could wait for the police, then work with them to locate The Gravitas which would garner some good will with the MCPD, but it also might compromise my access to Schillers' reward.

Or I could interrogate the thief before the police arrive and try to find The Gravitas on my own, taking all the reward and credit for myself. But if I did this, I'd definitely be pissing off the MCPD.

I spun to face the thief, "Tell me where The Gravitas is." I stood over the now-defenceless thief, allowing white energy to crackle across my fingertips.

"All right, all right," the thief started. "The Gravitas is in the safe in the--YEARRRGHHH!!"

The thief must have known that I wouldn't have time to check the apartment before the police arrived, so I needed to make sure he was telling the truth. Which is why I fired a thin energy beam directly through his thigh.

"Do not lie to me," I growled.

"Shit! OK!" the thief shouted, writhing on the floor. "I was hired to steal The Gravitas--I'm Trackr. I have the Power to discover the location of anything on the planet, so finding and stealing things is--"

"Stop stalling! Who hired you?" I cut him off, hearing the police already banging on the front door.

"Oh no, no way. That is one bad dude, he will kill me for sure if I-"

But another energy crackle is enough to convince Trackr that I would be able to give his employer a run for his money.

"All right, it was Smyther!" he screamed. "I forked The Gravitas over to him right away. But that's all I know, I swear!"

I froze because I knew exactly who Smyther was. And hearing that he was involved was not good news.

As the front door came crashing down, I knocked Trackr out with one swift punch.

I then pulled out a small card that read "Conduit". Even though I didn't particularly want to work with the police, they still needed to know the name of the hero who helped them on this case.

I dropped the card on Trackr and ran for the window, bursting outside just as the police came swarming into the bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Pulling up into the sky, I shuddered as I thought about Smyther. [He owned four "legitimate" businesses in the Static Lane section of the Eastern Fringes, it was well-known that these were fronts used to launder money from his prostitution, drug, and illegal firearms operations.]

Smyther fancied himself the Boss of an elite Powered mob. All of his "business" Generals formed an exclusive club called The Splice Circle. Aside from possessing dangerous Powered abilities, The Splice Circle Generals all indulged in their splicing poison of choice, whether it was animal-human hybridization, hyper-steroid usage, or gene-deep cosmetic alteration.

Not having time to fiddle with my MeChip for a search while flying, I decided to test the new thought-command function. [The first wave of thought-command technology had just been released but it hadn't replaced voice-commands entirely yet, since the software was rumoured to still be rather buggy.]

Clearing my mind and focusing on my MeChip, I thought:  _Jeeves, search Current Splice Circle Roster._

Within seconds, I got a response from MeChip Jeeves: "Apologies sir, but an Internet package upgrade is required for your requested search."

[There used to be a time when the Internet was available for one base price, but ever since the government allowed Internet providers to bundle packages for speed and website access during The Greater Depression, I'd been operating out of the lowest-cost bundle.]

[Actually, my entire MeChip was operating at similarly low-level. The potential functions of the MeChip were endless—if you had the money to pay for the services. MeChips could do everything from multiple perspective surveillance to acquisition of downloadable skills, but that all required high-level processing chips and additional fees.]

[Poor Jeeves could also have had dozens of different outfits and personality dimensions if I had had more money for upgrades....]  _Welcome to the twenty-second century, where class status is determined primarily by tablet functionality,_ I thought.

And unfortunately for me, it looked like it was time for an Internet upgrade, which was going to cost me.

 _Authorize Upgrade and Execute Search,_  I thought, trying to focus the command through the cloud of frustration in my head— _it won't be long before they start charging for air-per-breath_.

Immediately, several holographic web-images flashed before my eyes. One was a chart listing The Splice Circle's roster, another was a review of air humidifiers, and the last was a list of services for anger management. Understanding why many reviewers have bashed the MeChip thought-command function for acting glitchy, I tried to focus on the roster listing:

** THE SPLICE CIRCLE (RUMORED) ROSTER **

**BOSS-** Smyther

 **SECURITY GENERAL-** Boulder

** BUSINESS GENERALS **

**SHED CLUB-** Madame Vice (STATUS UNKNOWN)

 **THE RYEVAL BAR-** Kirkpatrick (COUNSELLOR)

 **FETISH SIN DEN-** Juanda W

 **ACE'S HIGH CASINO-** Third Degree

 **(NOTES:** Kirkpatrick is the latest addition to the Circle, brought in to run Smyther's newest establishment, The Ryeval Bar. Kirkpatrick also serves as Smyther's replacement Counsellor, after the remains of Smyther's last Counsellor were found split between West Port and Valour Park.

Madame Vice and Smyther have recently ended their multi-year affair on a sour note, causing many to wonder how long Vice will hold her position within the Circle.... **)**

** CRIME GENERALS **

**PROSTITUTION-** Lolli

 **FIREARMS-** Casing (UNDERBOSS)

 **DRUGS -** Fracture

 **(NOTES:**  Lolli is the Circle's longest-standing General, infamous for the spree of disfiguring attacks that pushed her up through the ranks of her Eastern Fringe Ani-gang and into the Circle.

Casing remains Smyther's most prized General, currently serving as The Splice Circle's Underboss. **)**

Satisfied with my knowledge of The Splice Circle, I prepared to take off towards Static Lane—until I noticed a bright flash coming from one of the surrounding rooftops. Focusing on the source, I saw that it was a reporter, obviously working overtime to break the first scoop on this story.

I really needed to find Smyther quickly, so I didn't have time for something as trite as an interview. So, I flew into the sky, knowing I didn't have a single second to waste. But as I pulled up into a bank of clouds, my MeChip my him a web alert.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir," MeChip Jeeves said. "One of the priority alerts has activated: the heroic personage press scan."

I had actually forgotten that I had even set the press alert, but it was a good thing I did—whether I wanted the attention or not, I knew that I should be aware of what's being said about me in the press. Though I hadn't thought it would start happening quite that quickly....

The alert took me to "Hero Press Blog", where I found a photo of myself—taken literally seconds prior—flying away from Trackr's penthouse. The caption read:

"Unknown Newcomer Cracks First Lead in Gravitas Case—More to Come. Photo Capture by Sonja Challa."

Even though getting press wasn't my priority, it was not the worst thing in the world for people to start recognizing me. Despite myself, I told Jeeves to archive the article—it was the first official press-related Legend boost of my career, after all.

I took off high across the sky at top speed, knowing I needed to get to Static Lane before the police did—or before another hero encroaching on my case did.

As I flew, I considered how any Powered Heroes stupid enough to take on The Splice Circle in the past had always ended up dead. The last victim appeared to be the Eastern Fringes' one-time champion, Static. [He was one of my idols for protecting the Fringes, but even he had been missing for months after taking on The Splice Circle.]

Worst of all, Smyther and The Splice Circle were responsible for funding the rival Ani-gang activity in the Fringes, using the gangs as a recruitment base to pipeline "employees" into the various branches of the organization. [The Ani-gangs were constantly vying for top billing with the Circle and a gang war had been brewing for months.]

Without a doubt, Smyther was responsible for making life in the Eastern Fringes highly hazardous. Knowing that he is involved with The Gravitas theft hit close to home for me, but I mostly wanted to take on this case because I knew it would serve as a blow to The Splice Circle's criminal practices and further disorganize Ani-gang activity in the Fringes.

Smyther remained untouchable thanks to a team of high-priced lawyers and some corrupt contacts within the MC government. So, catching him with The Gravitas would be a rare, illegal thread capable of unravelling the entire Splice Circle organization. And doing so would definitely improve life in the Fringes quite a bit—I couldn't think of a more worthwhile heroic pursuit.

However, as I began to breathe a bit heavier from the exertion of flying so fast, I thought about how advanced this case would prove to be. Smyther was no joke—he and his crew would kill me in a thousand different ways, without hesitation.  _Perhaps this might be a bit more than I can handle on my first night out...._

Then I reminded himself that I was born for major-league cases like this. Moving forward, no matter how successful I became, this kind of fear and doubt were going to be a part of my career at every level.

In fact, I knew that the pressure to stay afloat was only going to get worse, so I knew I'd have to learn to cope with it before long.

After a super-fast flight back to the Fringes, I landed on a roof across the street from Smyther's club, Shed. My favourite hero-tipoff blog, "Just the Tip", said that it was rumoured that Smyther had his secret base of operations hidden somewhere in Shed, since he was once romantically linked to Madame Vice, Shed's owner.

Madame Vice had the Power to seduce people into doing her bidding, and I had also read that, ever since being unceremoniously dumped by Smyther, she might've aspired to take over his head-honcho role....

While this is a titbit that I may have been able to use to my advantage if things got nasty inside, right now I needed to discover the location of Smyther's hidden headquarters within Shed. So, I decided to break into the back and search the premises without being seen.

I dropped down into the alley behind Shed and walked up to the backdoor. Using an energy crackle to pop open the lock, I slipped inside and found myself in a darkened room.

As my eyes adjusted, I spotted a deep-red light coming from somewhere across the room. I looked at the light and suddenly one step followed another.

_Fuzz...feels nice...moving...back, back, back...there stands..._

_Madame Vice. So pretty,_ I thought _. So, so pretty with the blood-red eyes._ [In retrospect, this isn't one of my proudest moments... But I couldn't really help it if one woman's hypnosis power is stronger than my inbuilt attraction to other men... right?]

"Tell me, rude thing," she said, her voice oozing, "what on earth brings you to my dark corner of the world?"

I wanted to tell her everything. Her with her flowing, auburn hair. Wrapped in that tight, red leather. Her body impossibly curved with plastic enhancements. I wanted her to trust me more than anything.  _Who cares if you're gay? You still want to touch, to tell. She's so pretty. Just tell._ [Definitely not my proudest moment.]

"I'm here to-" But as the words left my lips, one thought broke through the rest— _Madame Vice has hypno-seduction Powers!_   _Which must be why you can't seem to think straight_....

As I felt the slightest bit of control creep back, I decided that I'd better not waste the opportunity. "You'll want to get out of here," I said with real concern. "Very soon."

"Why would I want to do such a silly thing?" Madame Vice purred, causing my head to feel woozy again.  _Concentrate. Concentrate!_

"Because the police will be here any minute to recover The Gravitas," I managed. "Don't go down with the ship, Madame!"

_No more smile. Angry Vice. Eyes bore, not good. Not good! Bad.... You want Vice to like you. Love you. Will Vice hurt you?_

Suddenly something snapped, and I could feel my thoughts return to normal. I watched as Madame Vice crossed the dark room and opened a safe in the corner.

"Well then, I think it's a lovely time for a stroll around the block, isn't it?" Madame Vice said, approaching me. She grabbed my hand and her touch felt better than anything I'd ever felt.

"Be a dear and do forget you saw me, yes?"

My heart fluttered, and I blinked, overwhelmed with desire.

A moment later I opened my eyes to find that Madame Vice was nowhere to be found. I felt a cold rush of emptiness wash over me but tried to force away the feelings by telling myself  _it's only the after-effects of Madame Vice's hypno-seduction._ [Now, in all fairness I don't know what caused my memory of this to come back, but when I was thinking back to write it all down, it was just there.]

Then I realized there was something in my hand—a long, red whip tipped with gold.

I examined the gold tip of the whip and couldn't believe my eyes. The gold mechanism was a Telelock—a wildly expensive [and wildly illegal] security measure that granted teleportation entrance into doorless rooms.  _The only way into Smyther's secret headquarters must be through one of these Telelocks, which only his Splice Generals must carry._

Since Telelocks took the form of tokens unique to each owner and only respond to their brain waves, it was useless to me without Madame Vice.  _Though there is one trick I could try...._

But before I could give it a shot, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I raised my fists and spun around, freezing the moment I did. I instantly recognized the face smirking back at me; it belonged to Jury, another aspiring hero. He stood with his arms crossed, the wind from the open door flaring his black-and-white costume, which was made to look like a sleeker version of judge's robes.

Which made total sense because Jury's real name was Aaron Victon, the son of Judge Victon, who is now better known as the long-standing mayor of Millennia City....

And the man who sentenced my parents to their lifelong prison exile.

[Jury had the Power to see through the eyes of any twelve nearby people at once, hence the codename. He'd become a C-list hero, thanks mostly to his father's position. Anything Jury had gotten, he had bullied or bribed out of people thanks to his last name or charmed them with his good looks and social status. If I had had the advantages Jury had, I probably would've been MC's #1 hero already and I knew it.]

I really was inclined to hate Jury for just about every reason under the sun, but I had to be careful not to give away my real identity. The last thing I wanted was for the Victon family to know the connection between my 'Conduit', 'Sterling', and 'Tricamo' identities.

"Well, you're new, aren't you?" Jury said, looking me over from head to toe like a piece of meat. "What's your name, stud?"

Jury seemed to like what he saw, though I remember wondering if he just treated everyone like that. He was a conventionally gorgeous blond guy, so he must've been used to flashing a smile and getting his way. Even I'll admit that I had to force myself not to linger on the imprint of Jury's abs or the curve of his broad chest through his costume.

 _He may be hot,_   _but I want nothing to do with a creep like him...Still, he doesn't necessarily have to know that yet._

"I've got to go," I practically growled, walking toward the exit.

"Yeah, about that," Jury said, blocking my path. "You're cute and all but you don't know how things work yet. I just got a call from Rexford Schillers himself; the police told him they have a lead on his missing Gravitas. He's a dear friend of my father's—you do know who Mayor Victon is, don't you?"

Jury got closer to me, way closer than I'd like. Jury's breath smelt like stale beer and I was pretty sure I could make out the beginnings of a cold sore on his lower lip.

"Tell me what you know now, and I'll see it as a serious favour. And I'm the kind of guy you want to owe you, if you get my drift."

Jury put his hand on my hip. But I pulled away, trying desperately to keep my cool.

"And if I don't?" I asked through clenched teeth.

Jury's slick smile faded.

"Then let's just say that having the mayor of Millennia City as an enemy isn't a really great thing for any aspiring hero, is it?"

There was no way in hell I was backing down from this case, no matter what Jury threatened me with. Still, I needed to find a way to get Jury off of my tail— _he could cause some serious trouble for me if he gets to The Gravitas first._

So, being very cautious... I launched my fist directly at Jury's face and felt his perfect nose crunch under my knuckles.

As Jury hit the ground, I shook out my hand— _that hurt like hell_.  _Jury will definitely want to pay me back for that,_  but as I looked at him lying helplessly on the floor, I knew it was totally worth it.

It wouldn't be long before Jury woke up, so I turned my attention back to the Telelock and my one shot at accessing it....

[Sometimes, if I channelled my energy Power through electronics in just the right amount, it could jump-start their functions. However, too much Power fried electronics, a talent that came in handy for some situations but not this one.]

Figuring it was worth a shot, I grasped the golden tip at the end of the whip and closed my eyes. I allowed a small wisp of energy to flow from my fingertips through the Telelock, hoping this would coax it into co-operating.

Then out of nowhere, I felt a massive surge build in my forearms.

"No!" I shouted out loud, unable to stop a wave of white energy from bursting through my hands.

When the light from the blast cleared, I could see the charred remains of the whip in my hand—and the golden Telelock was completely shorted out. Despite years of training, my Powers could sometimes act...unpredictably. Though that was a rather inopportune time for a surge to flare up.

_What am I going to do now?_

But before I could even finish forming that thought, I felt my insides turn fluid. The room swirled around me and I staggered backward.

Then I screamed.


	5. Prodigies

When things snapped back into focus, I found myself in the foyer of a sleek loft. I clapped my hand over my mouth and slid against the nearest wall, hoping no-one had heard me.  _The Telelock must have activated somehow, despite the energy overload._   _Perhaps it was because Madame Vice was still nearby? Or perhaps-_

"How stupid are you?" I heard a deep voice say, interrupting my thoughts. I peeked around the wall of the foyer and saw none other than Smyther sitting on a large, metal throne, staring at something across the room!

He wore tight, black clothes, his bulging muscles covered in veins and bluish scars, the by-product of gene-splicing ultra-steroids. His face was equally scarred, scattered with stab and gunshot wounds. The effect made him look considerably less than human.

I couldn't help it—the sight of Smyther sent a chill up my spine.

I tried to ignore this as I spotted the large, silver staff in Smyther's hands, covered in gemstones the size of baseballs.  _That must be it...._

_The Gravitas._

I almost squealed because I'd done it— _I've found the damn thing!_  I started to scroll through the ways I was going to spend the reward money, knowing that all I needed to do was get my hands on The Gravitas....

That is, until my eyes settled on the ten (armed) guards that flanked Smyther. Next to them stood three menacing figures that I recognized as Smyther's Splice Generals. One of them was ten feet tall and made of stone— _that must be the Security General, Boulder_. Another had elongated, plastic fingers ignited by flames— _that's the owner of 'Ace's High' Casino, Third Degree_. The last had sharp knives growing out of every joint in her body— _that must be Fracture, the drug queen_.

I swallowed hard, a knot of fear balling up in my stomach. I would probably have had a hard time taking on just one of those criminals, let alone all of them combined. All of a Sudden, The Gravitas seemed like an afterthought— _how am I even going to make it out of here alive?_

Ready to act, I tensed all of my muscles, holding out hope that I would survive the night.

It was then that I realized Smyther and his mob all had their weapons locked on something across the room: a young woman. She wore a bodysuit made of black Kevlar, with one thick, red stripe running up the centre. Where the bodysuit ended, the red stripe continued up to cover her face, showing only her deep, burgundy lips, crystal-blue eyes, and long, dark hair. She looked statuesque, like one of those genetically enhanced Victoria's Secret Angels.

 _Shit_ , I thought,  _another hero's beaten me to the punch_. And she must've been even more insane than I was since she stood unarmed, staring down The Splice Circle.

"You went to great lengths to find my base of operations," Smyther said, gesturing toward a large hole in the floor next to the Kevlar-girl—a sight that caused me to lose my breath. I realized that I had no idea how far the Telelock had taken me or how I could get back outside....

I snapped out of it as Smyther continued: "What are you here for?"

I looked back to the Kevlar-girl and remembered that Smyther had the Power to elicit a truthful response from anyone he asked a direct question (a very handy gift for a Powered mob boss).  _That must be why they haven't killed Kevlar-girl yet—Smyther wants to know how and why she's here first,_ I thought.

"I'm here," she said softly, barely audible, "to kill you."

Suddenly, Kevlar-girl produced two massive cannon-guns and fired thick surges of laser-energy into the heart of the Circle. Within seconds, four guards and Third Degree burnt to a crisp right before my eyes. My stomach turned as I realized it smelt like a summer barbecue.

A deafening roar erupted as the guards returned fire. Fracture whipped dozens of razor-sharp blades at Kevlar-girl while Boulder moved to protect Smyther from the fray. Smyther shouted something at Boulder while waving The Gravitas, but I couldn't make out the words over the gunshots.

I quickly generated a protective energy shield, terrified of catching the brunt of a stray attack. Looking through the whiteish energy barrier, my eyes snapped back to Kevlar-girl as she leapt into the air and performed a series of flips, her movements creating a visible trail that blocked the barrage of bullets and knives— _she must be able to generate some kind of flash-shield with her movements._

Kevlar-girl then landed and sent off another round of cannon pulses. I looked back to Smyther's corner and saw that the last blast took out another half of the guards and left a large, nasty burn on Boulder's back.

I could hardly believe my eyes— _this woman just killed close to a dozen people in a matter of seconds._  An intense rush of dread overtook me.  _This is a bloodbath. I didn't sign up for this_.

_I don't want to die today._

But just as soon as these thoughts appeared, I forced them from my brain. I'd been training for this my entire life _. What am I going to do?_

_I'm a hero. And heroes save lives. Period._

Without second thought, I shot forward in a blur right at Kevlar-girl. Before she could see me coming, I crashed into her and grabbed hold of her waist. Keenly aware of the bullets ricocheting all around me, I canvassed the room and saw a small window in the far corner. I had no idea where it would lead; I was just thankful that the room had an exit at all.

With a thundering crash, I used Kevlar-girl as a battering ram to smash through the glass, ignoring her screams— _she doesn't exactly deserve delicate treatment after murdering everyone in sight_.

Once out of the window, I found myself five stories up— _the headquarters must be hidden on Shed's top floor_. Feeling myself start to fatigue from the effort of carrying kevlar-girl, I pullled above the nearest roof and dropped her. She gracefully tumbled onto the roof in a tight ball then flipped to her feet.

The moment she gained her footing, she reproduced the massive cannon-guns which I could have sworn she dropped when I tackled her inside and trained them directly on me.

I began to swerve and dodge laser blasts as kevlar-girl opened fire at me. She wasn't playing around— _if one of those blasts hits me, I'll be burnt to a crisp_.

I didn't have much time to decide what to do next, however, as kevlar-girl chucked something back towards Shed....

A grenade.

Though it looked unlike any grenade I'd ever seen before, intricately coiled with tech and a cool-blue core.

I turned to fly after the grenade as quickly as possible, knowing it would probably incinerate anyone still left inside the headquarters.

But I wasn't fast enough—the grenade drifted easily through the broken window. Seconds later, an intense flash of blue heat erupted from inside, followed by a massive explosion that sent flames and debris flying in every direction.

I screamed as I felt the force of the explosion send me reeling.

It took several seconds for my head to stop ringing and my vision to clear. When they did, I found myself on the street below— _the blast sent me a couple of blocks down._ That grenade was some seriously advanced technology— _where on earth did kevlar-girl get her hands on something like that?_

I looked up at Shed and saw people flooding out of the front door as the top half of the building raged with flames. Could it really be that kevlar-girl had done the impossible— _did she just take out Smyther and half of The Splice Circle in one attack?_

Through the raging fire, I managed to make out kevlar-girl's shadow leaping onto a rooftop...holding The Gravitas! She must have gone back in after the blast and sifted through the wreckage to recover it, no doubt protected by her shield-movements. I didn't know whether to be horrified or impressed— _this girl has some serious moxie._

Still, I wasn't about to let her escape,  _not after she murdered all those people. And especially not with the one thing that's going to launch my career_.

I flew after kevlar-girl but as I reached the roof, I found that she wasn't fleeing—she was stood pointing The Gravitas directly at me. Before I could react, I felt the air around me twist with a sucking noise and felt myself being pulled downward.

I tried to fight it but I couldn't stop myself from crashing into the roof. It was like someone had suddenly turned my Powers off and a giant, invisible hand was crushing me down.

Then it clicked— _The Gravitas must control gravity. No wonder Smyther wanted to get his hands on it. An object that powerful would be useful to anyone, let alone a mob boss with a strictly defensive Power set._

"Feels nice, huh?" I heard Kevlar-girl say from above me.

But I didn't have the patience for snappy banter—I knew that this girl wouldn't hesitate to kill me. So, I Tried to cut a deal with her— I thought we were both working toward the same goal, collecting the reward for recovering The Gravitas.

"Listen, I don't know who you are," I started, "but we both want the reward for The Gravitas and we both found it at the same time. Why don't we split the credit and I'll tell the police you killed all those people in self-defence?"

In response, I felt the weight pushing down on me double and heard Kevlar-girl start to laugh.

"Is that what you think I want, Conduit?"

I groaned under the weight of The Gravitas push, knowing Kevlar-girl was about to kill me, just like all those Splice Circle members. As my ribs started to creak under the pressure, I heard police sirens blaring from the street below. I'd never been so happy to hear that sound!

Suddenly, I felt the weight lifted off my shoulders and I sprang to your feet, just in time to see Kevlar-girl strapping a layer of plastic explosives to The Gravitas.

"Wait, stop! What are you—" I started, moving forward.

But Kevlar-girl just pulled away from me and held The Gravitas out in front of her body.

"The name is Prodigal, chicken," she said. "And you'll be seeing me again."

Without another word, the girl named Prodigal dropped The Gravitas.

Horrified, I watched as The Gravitas exploded at Prodigal's feet. A plume of silver smoke erupted into the sky as shards of shattered gemstones go flying in every direction. I stepped back, covering my eyes to protect them from the explosion.

And when the smoke finally cleared, I found that Prodigal had vanished. Only The Gravitas remained in charred pieces, destroyed beyond repair.

_No! Why would she destroy The Gravitas? Now it's of no use to anyone. It doesn't make any sense!_

Then another thought hit me— _before she left, Prodigal called me Conduit. She knows my codename! How?! I've only been on the hero scene for a few hours. How could she know...?_

I heard the sound of police choppers swooping overhead, so I didn't have much time to ponder this question.

I decided that I was going to go down and explain the situation to the police but just as I was about to wave down a police chopper, every nerve in your body screamed at me to stop.  _Think for a second...._

 _With a case this big ruined, not to mention over a dozen murders involving The Splice Circle committed, no one in the MCPD is going to care whether I'm innocent or not,_ I thought. _This whole debacle is going to make the police look terrible and they're just going to want a scapegoat to pin it all on._

_And if I stay, that scapegoat will be me, considering that with Prodigal gone, I'm currently the only one standing next to the destroyed Gravitas and a building full of dead mobsters._

I flew toward home, my mind racing with questions.  _What will happen to my reputation now that The Gravitas is destroyed? Will the police blame everything on me? Will I become a fugitive?_

Then my thoughts span completely out of control.  _Will Jury and Madame Vice be gunning for you after what you did to them?_   _Even worse, will the remnants of The Splice Circle be out for revenge? And who is this mysterious Prodigal, the girl who sabotaged your first mission? Why didn't she kill you when she had the chance?_

I was too exhausted to even begin to contemplate the answers to those questions. I'd pushed my Powers to their limit and had taken more than a few hits that night.

But all I could think about then and there was getting home to my bed, knowing that Grandma would help me sort it all out in the morning.

Fifteen minutes later, and it wasn't long before I saw my bedroom window waiting for me invitingly. Thinking I might collapse before I could reach it, I gave one final push to land inside.

All I wanted to do was get in bed immediately, but I needed to let Grandma know that I was all right. My muscles aching, I moved slowly toward the door.

"Gran, it's me," I shouted. "I'm all right, but I'm—"

"Well, look who it is," I heard a familiar voice say, stopping me in my tracks.

Sitting in my living room was none other than... Mayor Victon.

And he did not look pleased.


	6. Victonian Visions

My heart began to pound and I clenched my fists—it was just about all I could do not to pummel Mayor Victon on sight. The only thing holding me back was seeing Grandma sitting in the living room behind him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, willing myself to stop shaking.

"Now, now, there's no need to be rude," Mayor Victon said. "After all, your grandmother was kind enough to invite me inside."

I sent Grandma a look and she returned it with a calm nod. _‘Not now, Sam,’_ I imagined her saying.

"I received an urgent call from my son, claiming that some rogue rookie attacked him and sabotaged his latest case," Mayor Victon said. "I had my office discover which so-called hero this was and a quick background search gave us your address. Then I had some of my more…colourful staff pay you a visit."

My eyes flashed back to Grandma, but she nodded once again, indicating that she was all right. _If this scum had hurt her_ … I didn't even want to think about what I would’ve done.

It was terrifying that my private information was out there, too. _Sure, I have a secret identity, but since all heroes have to register with the government, there's a secure database with all of the licensed heroes' information in it—a database that Mayor Victon clearly has access to, one way or another._

 

"Imagine my surprise when they found an old woman living here instead of some young buck hero. And then my absolute delight to learn that I had walked right into the new life of my dear, old friends, the Tricamos," Victon nearly cooed. "I had heard you'd both been enrolled in the PFPP but I rather frustratingly hadn't been informed of your whereabouts."

Mayor Victon paused, hitting me with the warmest politician smile he could muster. He had the same Kennedyesque good looks as his son, but I could slightly see his replugged hairline and concealer-covered cheeks.

"It is rather gratifying to finally have found you, after all these years. And even more gratifying to know exactly where you live," Victon said, his voice dropping. "Do keep that in mind the next time you happen to come across my son."

 _That's enough,_ I thought.

 

"Get the hell out of my apartment, before I throw you out myself," I said, my voice trembling. _This man took my parents away from me and now he has the audacity to threaten me in my own home? Not tonight,_ I thought.

Especially because, for all of Mayor Victon's posturing, he had his eye on a bid for the upcoming presidential election. He was beloved by the people of Millennia City for regulating Powered activity and making the city a safer place to live. Taking down my "murderous" parents was spun as a positive, but coming after their innocent, shattered family wouldn't play well to the public—especially not with the PFPP backing me up.

So Mayor Victon didn't want to make any waves there…at least not right then.

But Mayor Victon eyed me, seemingly pleased by my aggression.

"Of course, I have a full security detail positioned outside your door, in addition to the considerable defenses afforded by my MeChip. So I'd caution against any…rash decisions."

 

Mayor Victon smiled at me—a smile that sent ice through my veins.

I was about to respond when suddenly Mayor Victon shouted in pain and jumped sideways. I was quite delighted to see that one of Grandma's Venus flytraps had had its way with Mayor Victon's thigh.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry about that," Grandma said. "De Milo sometimes has a mind of her own. Now if you'll excuse me, I do think it's time you were leaving. That is, unless you have something constructive to add to this conversation?"

Mayor Victon looked from Grandma to me, the smile draining from his face.

"I just wanted to drop by to let you know you always have a friend in me," Mayor Victon said as he walked toward the door. "Feel free to call me any time. And now that I know where you two live, do remember that I can call you any time I'd like, too."

On that discomforting notion, Mayor Victon exited our apartment.

 

"Bastard," Grandma said, petting De Milo. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but stopped once she got a closer look at me.

"Oh my word, you look dreadful, Sam! Are you all right?"

“I… I don’t know”

 

So much had happened, so quickly. A few short hours prior, it was the best birthday of my life. _But now…_

 _If I just have a second to stop and collect my thoughts, I’m sure I'd be all right._ I tried my hardest to block out the failures, to forget that my costume was still covered in bits of human ash. I thought being a hero would be glamorous and exciting but that night was just…

_I could barely save my own life, let alone anyone else's._

As the adrenaline finally drained from my body, one thought pounded in my brain, pushing out everything else.

_I wish my parents were here._

It wasn't long before I was on the floor, the room blotching into blackness. The last thing I made out was Grandma kneeling beside you, looking more worried than I’d ever seen her.

 

 

TWO WEEKS LATER

"ROOKIE HERO CONDUIT RUINS EVERYTHING"

Millennial Orbit Article Contributed by Sonja Challa

 

It'd been weeks since the article had come out but it still stung every time I read it. At that point, I could only bear to skim the clipping….

Not only did the newsblog chew me out for destroying The Gravitas, there's also a quote from Rexford Schillers damning me for "costing him hundreds of thousands of dollars." Of course there was a quote from Jury too, saying that I had sabotaged what otherwise would have been a successful mission for him.

The MCPD had also marked me as a dangerous fugitive, pinning The Splice Circle murders on me. In fact, the only reason the police hadn't knocked down my door is Jenny, my blessed PFPP agent, who had the wherewithal to hack into the government database and alter my personal information after my Victonian visit.

 

I owed Jenny big-time for that one…though I hadn't exactly expressed my gratitude yet, since I missed several of her calls as I took time to recover.

Last and certainly not least, Mayor Victon's office commented in the article, saying that it was "amateur hero screwups like this one that Mayor Victon's hoping to further regulate during the rest of his term."

While this Orbit article probably helped to make Sonja Challa's career, it appeared that she had done irreparable damage to mine. Even though she gave me a boost with that first piece on Trackr, she had thoroughly trashed my name with this second article—a fact I wouldn't forget anytime soon.

The people of Millennia City thought of me not just as a hack, but as an actual danger to society. If I had thought getting a good hero gig was hard before, it had just gotten doubly difficult.

And my Legend Level seemed decimated before it had even been given a chance to rise, down to a measly 5 according to my heroic license. I would’ve checked the official Hero Legend Meter website that tracked Legend like a credit score, but I knew it was bound to be depressing.

 

The only positive news was that, good or bad, famous or infamous, I’d placed myself on the map in a big way. _Getting people's attention is the first step to becoming a hero, even if it's only negative attention._

And now that all of Millennia City was watching, it was up to me to decide what they saw next.

 

With that thought in mind, I took some time to rest and recover from that first, traumatizing night. More importantly, I took time to reflect upon my actions.

Despite all that happened with The Gravitas case I still thought _, I put Trackr behind bars, saved as many lives as I could, and took a dangerous weapon off the streets. Despite what the press says, I did my duty as a hero to the best of my ability._

No matter how I felt about my first case as a hero, I realized that everything was going to be way harder than I had expected. I was going to have to be stronger, smarter, and faster if I had any hope of surviving the deadly enemies I faced, and of finding the success I so desperately craved.

 _But what if this is all a crazy pipe dream? What if I’m not good enough? What if the odds just never work in my favour? My dreams could simply not come true and no one would know except for me….:_ I quickly shook those doubts off, though. _No one ever said this was going to be easy._

Ready to get back to work, I pulled on my Conduit costume. I knew Grandma would kill me if I didn't say goodbye before leaving, so I walked into the living room, where I found her wrestling with a rather large palm frond. Grandma had lost several of the tools from her gardening belt and her hair had come undone, matted down to her face with beads of sweat.

"I'm fine!" Grandma said, wiping her brow. "Tropez here is just having a bit of a hard time adjusting but he'll feel right at home in no time. By the way, that video game woman called again…and she sounded rather angry."

In my haste to start my heroic career, I had quit the video game testing job without telling the company (or returning my advance deposit). Perhaps not the smartest move, especially considering that I had no idea how I was going to start making money as a hero.

Unfortunately, my bank account also took another hit that morning after I paid $800 for rent; Grandma's pension didn't cover all the bills.

"Anyway, are you going to go see Jenny?" Grandma asked, returning to her battle with Tropez.

Grandma thought that with all of this fresh, heroic hell on my plate, it would be smart to strategize with my PFPP agent, Jenny. She had access to government information and claimed to have a lead that could help me sort out the mess with the Gravitas case. But I probably bit off too much too fast taking on The Splice Circle, _so I’ve got my sights set on a smaller-scale mission for tonight_ ….

 

"Oh Sam," Grandma said, interrupting my train of thought."Have you made a decision yet about the sidekick-mentoring project?"

Despite my heroic false start, Grandma had still been insisting that I took on a sidekick-mentee. She'd always been involved in mentoring Powered youth—I even had my own hero-mentor back when I was younger (though the most exciting thing he asked me to do was pick up his dry cleaning).

I'd never tell Grandma but I didn't have much faith in the program. Besides, I couldn't imagine why any young Powered person would want to work with an amateur like me. I’d been rather reluctant to choose all week but at this point I was just tired of Grandma's constant and "helpful" reminders.

"All right, all right," I said, pulling up the applicant files on my MeChip.

Three files in particular caught my attention:

 _Sparrow: a sixteen-year-old orphan from the Eastern Fringes who has the appearance and abilities of a typical bird._ Coming from a neighbourhood like the Fringes, she wouldn't have many heroic opportunities within her reach [a fact I knew all too well].

 _Pressie: a fourteen-year-old, four-foot-tall, gnomish-looking boy. He believes his Power to manipulate the Earth comes solely from his "magical" peg leg._ [His only dream was to become a hero but given his rather cutesy appearance, that seemed highly unlikely.]

_Tarana Rain: a fifteen-year-old girl who had the Power to generate and manipulate water. She goes to a ritzy Rein Hill Powered private school and comes from a wealthy family—one that owns the Millennial Orbit, MC's best-selling newsblog_

As they scrolled in front of my face, I decided to go with Sparrow

 

Her profile said she was extremely smart but painfully shy. She definitely looked older than sixteen but I knew that was just a side effect of growing up in the Fringes without parents. I was happy to take on someone who was as eager to become a hero as I was, especially someone with such a similar background.

"Divine choice, sir," MeChip Jeeves said, appearing in one of his standard-issue outfits, a tweed suit. "I think Sparrow will make a fine sidekick."

"I hope you're right, Jeeves," I thought, figuring it was best to practice the thought-command function as much as possible.

 

"I'm going to go with Sparrow," I said to Grandma.

"I had a feeling you might," Grandma responded, a mischievous smirk stretching across her face, "which is why I told her to meet you in Ringe Square in five minutes to help you with whatever you've got planned for tonight."

I opened my mouth to protest but knew it was no use—arguing with Grandma once she has made up her mind was mind-numbingly futile. So I simply nodded, jaw clenched. _This is certainly going to be…interesting._

Before I went, I walked over to say goodbye to Golda, stroking her petals for good luck.

"And for heaven's sake, Sam," Grandma started, once again looking more worried than I could stand. "Please be careful out there?"

I nodded at Grandma, knowing it would be hard to screw things up worse than I did last time….

 

In my room, I prepared for takeoff, checking over my costume one last time. Then I looked up at the poster of my parents, causing another streak of guilt to run through me. _Maybe I should write to them?_

But then I stopped myself, thinking that nothing has changed. _I’ve been left to live my life without my parents so that's exactly what I’m going to do._

Instead, I glanced over at the poster of Rebellion, thinking that getting to his level seemed further away than ever before….


End file.
